Dec 21, 2022
Oh wow.
seen from Tajikistan
seen from Singapore
seen from China
seen from Singapore
seen from Poland
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from Germany
seen from Honduras
seen from Malaysia
seen from Türkiye
seen from Malaysia
seen from Singapore
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from Netherlands
seen from United States
seen from Egypt
seen from United States
seen from Russia
Oh wow.
Hm. :<
He seems a lot more likeable than a lot of the other Alternian murderers that hang around here... Like, he's not overly loud, and he seems kinda sad to me.
He's so weird! Which one of you is telling the joke here?
This guy doesn't sleep well, and for one caegar a night, he could sleep even worse.
My, what a hilarious time we might have of it.
Waiting. You were pretty good at waiting, for a while in there. Infinite patience, an inability to understand the crashing of your peers... You understand them now. On nights like these, the waiting makes you itchy. Restless. This waiting doesn't have a measured sense of Purpose, it merely Is. Grand isn't available yet. Ringleader isn't ready. The opportunity has yet to arrive. There is a compulsion to fill these types of waiting minutes with something more than just the waiting, but as thus, the chores around clown mountain just aren't cutting it.
Waiting for the visit with Grand is a Big Thing. It's waiting for Grand, and waiting for Ringleader, and waiting for your church. It's Juryrigg and Siopiv and Prediger, it's you and your spade and the relations you want to build. It's the damage you have wrought. Judgement. Some ghost of Unity.
It's not something you can rush. There is nothing for it but the waiting. You think you'll have to sink your claws into something else. Something big enough to draw you away from the waiting...
Telling your story is worthless to you. Less than worthless, it is an annoyance. You want the results of others knowing without having to do the telling. No take, only throw. Even then it wouldn't amount to more than a bit of adrenaline. Consequences. Anything to quiet the undercurrent of buzzing. People are talking to you, smiling, and you are talking to them, smiling, but they can't see the static under your collarbone. Plants and animals and smiling faces, your family happy to see you. Hauling stone and mortar. When you clasp their hands for a job well done and Know what sits in their hearts, you are sincerely there and you are sincerely pleased, but it doesn't go deep enough.
So then what? What can you do?
Except maybe, you do have the inkling of an answer. Watching that stranger, star of your spade, and wondering what they could do for something like you.
It just seems... a bit much, if you got wrapped up in selfish wishes. Like something that could overflow the waiting and take more than its due.
But maybe that's the paranoia talking. If anyone can resist all temptation, it would have been you, right?
It's not something you can rush after all, Grand and Ringleader...
Grand still doesn't know I'm an empath. I was thinking about telling him when we talked about Prediger, but the tone wasn't right.
Grand, finding out that I'm lime: